“He has a stubbly yellow moustache, weak eyes, and great horrid hands. They are things faint and slight in themselves, as physical facts, but they are like the detonator of a bomb: they let loose the explosive. "Hark 'ee, Ben," said the old sailor, knocking the ashes from his pipe upon the hob; "you may try, but dash my timbers if you'll ever cross the Thames to-night.
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